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While sleeping on the couch around 2 am, Hubby woke me and told me to get into the family bed. I was till loopy with fatigue and asked him if he wanted to get his policy started tonight. For the longest time I still thought I was at work but fell back to sleep without moving. I was horrified when the sun came up because I was still dressed in my office casual.

At least I slept, right. Well, I woke up at 5 am and was distraught that the new inhabitants of our old trailer will be getting all my catalogs since I won't be bothered with having them all transferred here. So... they should be expecting the Fall editions of All About Dance, Azure Green, Field and Stream, Town and Country, possibly a few Playboys in the Hubby's name and also all the letters from pen pals I've kept for years now but haven't notified of my recent move.

All I'm really worried about is the letters and the Pagan-supply catalog. They're not going to understand why I have a friend in the Ukraine nor why I need a continuous supply of sage and essential oils. Bah.

Maye the new renters are enlightened like us.

Of course it's time to be curling my hair before leaving for work. I have seven more days before my next day off. Already I'm mentally spent.

To the 24-year-old callers in denial: If you know your license has been suspended for four years and you had a wreck and a DUI in January 2007 while driving around in an uninsured, unregistered vehicle, don't act like a fucking victim when I tell you we don't want your risky business.
Ciao.